


The Difference

by 2shytheshippy



Category: A Song of Ice and Fire - George R. R. Martin, Game of Thrones (TV)
Genre: Gen, Love Hurts, Modern AU, Ship in the background, not so unrequited
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-03-12
Updated: 2014-03-12
Packaged: 2018-01-15 11:20:35
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,841
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1303000
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/2shytheshippy/pseuds/2shytheshippy
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Are some differences really too vast to overcome?</p>
            </blockquote>





	The Difference

As if it was going to self-destroy, Arya lightly held the piece of paper in her hands as she read the letter. Her eyes frantically scanned the page as she mouthed the words in front of her. Unconsciously, Arya lightly placed her fingertips against her lips as read thoughts that were never revealed to her—that were hidden from her. These were thoughts that were expressed on paper, and then buried for whatever reason. After her initial reading, she re-read the letter three more times just to make sure that what she was reading was real. 

A series of emotions hit her suddenly: confusion, anger, frustration, and others that she had difficulty in defining, but she narrowed her focus in on anger. How could Gendry hide something like this from her? Why didn’t he tell her?

Without a second thought, Arya turned on her heel and stormed out of the room. They were going to talk about this. Her stride was purposeful as she waddled down the hallway and looked into the living room. It didn’t take her long to find the tall, dark-haired man. 

Instantly, Gendry’s face dropped when he looked at Arya: she was fuming. 

“What’s wrong?” When he started to walk towards Arya to meet her, she palmed the letter against his face in an aggressive manner. Gendry shoved her hand away from his face as the letter floated on the couch, and then slid off the edge onto the floor. “What the fuck is wrong with you, Arya!”

Gendry gently touched his nose and brushed under his nostrils to see if there was any blood. After checking a few more times to make sure his nose wasn’t bleeding, he then reached to pick up the letter that had been shoved in his face. Arya snatched the piece of paper off of the floor just before Gendry could read it. 

“What the fuck is wrong with me,” she parroted. “What the fuck is wrong with me?” Arya looked at the letter again before showing it to Gendry. “Does this look familiar?’

Before Gendry could fully inspect the letter, Arya again snatched the letter away from his line of vision. She seemed frustrated and annoyed with him more than anything, which baffled Gendry. He hadn’t done anything wrong. Well, not that he knew of at least. You never knew with Arya. He had never before been completely unaware as to what he had done to set her off—this was new ground for him. He usually had an idea or some kind of hint was given.

“Arya,” he began. “I have no idea what I did wrong—I don’t even know what you have in your hand.” 

“How about I refresh you memory,” she replied. “Dear Arya, I’ve been trying to work up the courage, for weeks, to tell you how I feel about you.” In horror, Gendry’s eyes widen.

“Arya, no,” he pleaded. Gendry tried to grab the letter, but Arya glared at him and put a hand against his chest. “Can you please just give me the letter? I—I didn’t know what I was thinking when I wrote it; I was being stupid kid, okay?”

She ignored him.

“Arya, please don’t read the letter,” he begged.

She continued reading:

“You know that I’m not good at this sort of thing—talking to girls. I get nervous and shy around them; I can’t speak. But, with you, I don’t feel that way: I can be myself. I don’t feel as if I have to pretend to be something I’m not and that doesn’t happen often. All of my life, I’ve had to prove myself to people, I’ve had to hide my true self, but with you, you see and accept me for who I am. 

Most importantly, I like being around you. I like being the person to make you smile and laugh. I like being the guy you look at as if I’m the only guy in the world. I like it when you grab me when you want to take me somewhere or show me something. I just like the way you make me feel…like I’m somebody or something. And I only feel that way around you. 

And I’m not going to lie: I’m a little nervous about writing this letter. I know I said that I can be myself around you, which is true, but the reason I feel nervous is because you’re such an amazing person and beautiful too. Like really beautiful and I can think of countless times where I wanted to kiss you or just…hold your hand. Hell, even being around you brightens my day.

So, what do you say? Do you feel the same way and want to go out with me too? We don’t have to go on a romantic dinner; we can do fun like laser tag, go-kart racing, or anything you want I don’t care what it is just as long as you say yes.

P.S. If you don’t like me, it doesn’t have to be weird. I promise not to bring it up again.”

The silence was deafening.

As Arya read the letter, Gendry’s temperament changed from embarrassment to anger. His body language went from relaxed to defensive. Anger seemed to radiate from Gendry. Out of habit, Gendry began to clench and unclench his fists to calm himself down before he crossed his arms and looked everywhere but Arya.

“Why did read that?” Gendry stared at the floor, and then Arya. Involuntarily, he rubbed his goatee, and then ran his hand through his hair. “Why are you bringing up the past?”

“Why did you hide this from me,” she ignored his question and asked her own as she rested her hand on her belly.

“What do you want, Arya?” Gendry walked to Arya held his arms open in front of her to dignify his vulnerability in the situation. “Huh, what do you want? What do you expect to get out of this letter or me?” He looked down upon the shorter woman as he crossed his arms again. “Because I got nothing for ya.”

“Why didn’t you give this letter to me?”

Slowly, Gendry exhaled in frustration before sighing, “Arya.”

“Why,” she repeated.

Predictably, Gendry broke eye contact with her. Arya had a way of seeing into him that no one else had. Her gaze was very penetrating and when she was on a mission to find out information, the more intense her gaze got. It made a person feel naked and exposed. It made him feel naked and exposed. She wanted him to reveal secrets that he had kept close to his chest, to reveal secret that he tried to bury deep within his heart in order to erase all evidence of it. 

Because, although he had been using the word like, he really meant love. He had been in love with her—he was in love with her. And now she wanted him to open wounds that never finished healing? Arya had no idea what she was asking of him. 

“I had been trying to ask you out for weeks,” he began. “But, I could never work up the nerve; you were my best friend and I didn’t want to ruin things and…well, I was afraid that you didn’t feel the same way.” Gendry clenched his jaw, and then bit his lip as he thought back to high school and his failed attempt at revealing his feelings to Arya. “Even after I wrote the letter, I couldn’t give it to you. I was so terrified that you didn’t feel the same way; I think I was afraid of that the most. When I finally worked up the nerve, Aegon had asked you out. And, I don’t know…I just knew that I couldn’t compete with him, so I never said anything.” 

Without hesitation, Arya said, “Bullshit.”

“What?” 

“Gods, Gendry, you’re right: you were stupid,” she whispered as she stared unbelievingly at her best friend. “Why didn’t you say anything?”

“What do you mean ‘why did I say anything’?” Gendry looked as Arya as if she had grew an extra head. “You were my friend and you were happy,” he explained. “When Aegon asked you out, I could tell that you were excited even though you tried to downplay it. And look at you two now: you guys are married and have a kid on the way.” At his remark, Arya looked at her pregnant belly, and then back at Gendry. “I should’ve known better than to think I had a chance with you,” he mumbled.

“And that means exactly?” 

“That means that bastards like me aren’t good enough for rich girls like you,” he said. “It wouldn’t have worked—we wouldn’t have worked; we’re too different.”

Arya looked at him as if she had been slapped. 

“You’re right Gendry, we are too different,” she agreed as she brought a hand to her face to rub it. “The difference between you and me is that I let people’s actions speak for themselves and not some bullshit class difference. The difference is that I wouldn’t have let it stop me. The difference is that I think the best about you and you seem to think the worst about me. The difference between you and me is that you thought that you weren’t good enough for me, but I knew you were good enough.”

Gendry looked confused as he processed what she said. “Arya…”

“I loved you too.” The way Arya said it made Gendry believe that the feeling hadn’t gone away for her either.

“It was just a crush,” he said weakly.

Arya looked at the letter again. “Was it?”

Gendry looked to the floor in shame. He had let her go without a fight—he had a chance and didn’t even know it. Although he didn’t know he had been feeling at the time was love, he knew that Arya was more than just another girl; he knew that she was more than a crush. 

He may have written the letter years ago, but the pain felt fresh. Arya was right: he was stupid.

Suddenly, two comforting arms were wrapped around his body and a head rested against his chest. Gendry pulled her closer and rested his head on top of hers. They stood that way for a moment. Arya then took her head off Gendry’s chest. One hand loosely grabbed his shirt and the other held the back of his neck. She stared at him with a vulnerability that he had never seen before. Her eyes water and her voice was low, “You were good enough.”

As Arya’s thumb gently brushed his lips, her fingers grazed his face. They were so light and soft that her touch almost tickled. Firmly, she brought his head down to her level and placed a kiss on his forehead, his nose, and then the corner of his mouth.

With tightly shuteyes, she whispered. “You were good enough.”

They stood that way for a while.

**Author's Note:**

> 1\. This may seem OOC seem, but I wanted to briefly explore Gendry's bastard (inferiority) complex.  
> 2\. In the near future, I will mostly add/subtract something to/from the story.


End file.
